


The System

by sugarby



Category: Psycho-Pass, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Police, Drama, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Police AU, Psycho Pass AU, Psychological
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi, Detective Inspector Petra Ral and Offcer Eren Jaeger are intertwined through the faults in a highly praised System that partially governs law with its ability to scan minds and estimate a person's likelihood to commit a crime. It long ago lost Levi's and now it's losing Petra's faith while pushing Eren to reevaluate the proper way to get justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The System

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this 98% finished fic for a bit over a year, anxious to post it ^^; I was writing a normal crime fic at first, then it became it's own Psycho-Pass au and it's what it is. You don't need to have watched the series to understand this; nothing's complicated but I'll explain parts I've used: **Crime Co-Efficient** \- a numerical method for estimating a person's likelihood to commit a crime, gauged between 0-99% (classed as "innocent"), 99-299% (therapy is advised), 300+ (set for execution). I love Psycho Pass but, ridiculously, a person's number can and will rise for trivial reasons.
> 
> I've split it in two to be considerate (whole thing's 21k+!) but I still class this as a one-shot. I'm thankful to be finishing and posting this up now. Enjoy, please~ \\(^◡^ )

It's ten o'clock in the evening when Mr. Lang's door knocked, orchestrated in a way to let him know who's behind the door, to make him sweat. He takes a gulp of orange juice straight from the carton he'd earlier discarded on the glass table in the center, the knocks increase in volume—like kicks. Mr. Lang knows the individual likely behind the door means to make clear to him that he cannot escape, that he should open the door or it'll be knocked down.

Mr. Lang can't have that. He unlocks and opens the door, "Inspector Levi..." in his voice there is caution, and in his tone there is the sure sign of his disapproval to this visit. He sets his hand on a brief course through his dark hair, nervous. His skin is faintly glazed with perspiration and his dark eyes don't blink as he keeps them on the short yet effortlessly intimidating man standing in front of him, with his own gaze that's cold and unbreakable—a predator watching its prey that'll quickly try and escape at any chance given.

"Evening, Mr. Lang. There are a couple of things I need to go over with you." Inspector Levi's voice is nothing comfortable or assuring, but blunt and official and tired. It isn't mistaken to be from exhaustion. As it stands, he's not let a suspect escape, he's caught all who have tried. Truly, if he needed to sleep he couldn't be able to activate the exceptional hunting skills tagged to his name.

"Of course...do come in," Mr. Lang steps aside.

"In the statement you made earlier," Levi says all while scanning the apartment—flat-screen tv, sturdy leather couch, large window pane dominating the back wall and exposing a beautiful view of the city below all lit up and pulsing with life—and trying not to mind the clutter in areas: unclean plates, neglected empty juice carton, deflated pillow. "You said that you weren't by the victim near to his time of death."

"I wasn't."

"Where were you?"

"On an errand—I was doing a favor for someone."

"You were on an "errand" for someone before five o'clock in the morning?" Inspector Levi repeats, tone skeptical and of blatantly mockery. "You told myself and the Officer who brought you in earlier that you were doing laundry."

"That's it, the favor! Laundry...I-I'd borrowed a friend's clothes."

"It's one thing to do laundry at an uncommon hour—that tells me you _want_ to be alone, Mr. Lang.

Mr. Lang let's out a nervous laugh, "What?...Is it a crime to enjoy my own company, Inspector?"

"I really hope not." because he's normally fond of his own company, even craves it at times. Inspector Levi's eyes look to out in the hall, where his partner should be standing by like he asked her to—for her own good and to catch Mr. Lang in the event of him fleeing. "What about the bloody knife left in your basket? It's another thing entirely to be stupid enough to leave a piece of evidence behind." he scoffs and his shoulders rise a bit in wonder, "What was the point in even playing innocent?"

"Wait a minute, Inspector, I can—!" The rest of Mr. Lang's desperate plea loses itself when the Inspector pulls out his gun: the futuristic-like State of Mind Measuring and Estimation Regulator ( SOMMER ) that breathes lines of blue clarity to life along its body; its robotic voice announces: _Target's state of mind currently measures at 240. Activating non-lethal paralyzer._

"Don't misunderstand. We had you in our sights before the knife was found, you were sketchy as fuck. But it makes sense. Your fiance was having a passionate affair with your best friend and he had no idea you were on to them. You arranged for him to meet you early, to 'catch up', but you thought that was your chance to strike. Well, sucks for you, Mr. Lang, 'cause there was a witness. You may know her, the nice lady who likes to volunteer at local establishments, like the laundromat."

"...Shit." Mr. Lang swears with his cards all forcefully put out on the table and no excuses left to give. He runs for it, pushing over the coffee table in the middle as a blockade between him and the inspect and then dashing out the door.

"Well, fuck me. Hanji was right, it is a nice night for _hunting_." Inspector Levi comments before leaving the apartment in strides quick enough for his partner to struggle to keep up with his pace and breathe properly.

"Inspector Levi, Sir...I'm afraid the culprit, he—"

"We need to cut the bastard off before he can leave the premises."

Petra nods. They shared the same idea in mind. "I'll take the stairs and meet you down." The Inspector's eyes go down to her feet disapprovingly. Petra wriggles around her exposed-toes in her heeled sandals. It's inarguable they're not the best footwear for an active job like hers, but she's determined not to let them be her handicap if she can go without one at all. "I'll be fine, Sir. It's often been said and proven that women can do anything in heels." Except make their superiors lighten up, she thinks when her partner's face remains solidly skeptic, even when giving her the go-ahead.

They near the end of the hallway and come to an open Elevator. Levi's face twists in horror at the soiled compartment, wretched graffiti on the back wall, cigarette heads on the floor, even post-coital substance smeared in a corner. Slowly, he walks in. The job he signed up for entailed nothing like this, it just comes like excess baggage. He holds down his tongue from lashing curses as he puts a finger to the button for the Ground Floor. The beats of his pulse seem to excel to an image of hundreds of disease-ridden bacteria storming up his skin in a mob. "I've called the Officers who were stationed on patrol nearby for minor back-up, so they should be outside. Stay on Lang but don't do anything reckless, Petra."

"Yes, Sir." Petra says. "Please be careful."

"And you." Levi replies and the elevator doors close.

 

 

_*  *  *  *_

 

 

Mr. Lang's legs feel unsteady and his chest is tight when he makes it to the entryway of the building after about forty-something flights of stairs. His forehead is glazed with perspiration and he swears he can hear his heart pounding right inside his head. It's an impressive feat, really, to escape two Inspectors—one infamously known across rough towns—when he not long was convinced it would suicide alone just to try.

Trying to get his breath back for a moment, the haunting sound of the pair of heels following after him sounds closer. With every step and click and clack of those yellow, floral sandals descending the murderous, stone stair,s the likelihood of being caught and sent to prison feels to be increasing. He curses at how quickly she managed to catch up—he'd even jumped over the railings and down to two flights for a shortcut. She's unexpectedly turning out formidable.

Lang yelps and, with energy he thought had dissipated, leaps through the entrance doors—they automatically slide apart, let him loose out in to the chill evening and parking lot. The feeling of freedom comes but he tries to not soak up too much yet as he runs across. He's _nearly_ free. Very almost. He tries not to squint so much at the bright lights ahead that he's blind to his route. The lights are beacons coming from the parked cars up ahead and their exterior design gives away their affiliation with the Criminal Scouting Legion.

A Brunet, young, male, with a badge attached to his uniform which natural light hits and makes gleam, dives out of the passenger's side. "Hey, you!" he shouts and Lang increases his speed, hurtling through the parking lot against the whips of the wind and pains in his chest. "Freeze! STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU MURDERING BASTARD!" The Officer dashes after him, leaves behind his bewildered partner only just emerging from the driver's side.

Lang changes direction, the scarce energy he has left fleeting as he implores his legs to move faster. He thinks it's ridiculous, being chased by (what looks like) a kid, but there's a ferocity of determination burning in his eyes—it's frightening! Lang nears the gates of the parking lot and closes his eyes shut to properly pray for his escape, but the will of the Officer prevails. Lang's tackled to the concrete ground and suppressed by the weight of the Officer sitting on his back. Lang's face grazes the concrete, then he begins the struggle, trying to wriggle out and away like a worm—he whimpers, maybe sobs.  
  
"Handcuffs!" The Officer commands and extends back an arm, palm open and waiting to receive the item from his partner, but the latter is awed. The Officer snaps fingers impatiently, "Jean, now! Come on!"  
  
"Y-Yeah, alright..." His partner, Officer Jean Kirstein, staggers over, then the handcuffs are snatched away. Normally, he'll complain—be obnoxious and questions who the fuck his partner thinks he is to just do whatever he wants, but he's slow, still processing the way Lang was captured. Mildly frozen, he watches his partner pin Lang down with one hand and use the other to cuff his wrists from behind; this and chasing him down, Officer Eren Jaeger does it all like it's nothing. Commendable to most people, it's ridiculous to his partner. "Holy shit. Trust you, a suicidal maniac, to take off and tackle a Goddamn murderer. What the hell, Eren?!" Does he say these things because he cares? No. He's sick of working with someone like his partner and how it makes him seem like he's trying less just because he's not all for reckless behavior.  
  
"Shut up! I did my job and caught him, didn't I?! Unlike you, I'm not satisfied with being paid to stand around!" In the same sense, Officer Jeager would prefer his partner to believe in good results from risks, to not be such a _wet-fucking-blanket_ on the sidelines all the while.  
  
"What?! Listen here, I was _surprised_! Two Inspectors go in and he comes out by himself?! I was assessing the situation, dickhead!"  
  
"Oh yeah?! Oh _really_?!" Officer Jaeger stands and roughly hauls up Lang in tow (who, by now, is worn out, submissive). "Well, when _this guy_ assessed the situation, he didn't stand around with his thumb practically up his ass! He saw the Inspectors and he _fucking legged_ it!"  
  
"Oh—screw you, Eren! Bullshit! No one _sane_ would do what you did and you know it! Don't make me out to be the one missing screws in their head! You just get off on this, don't you, you little bastard?!" He steps forward at the same time as his partner and suddenly their pushing foreheads, inches away from a fist-fight they're always near to starting anyway.

"Officer Kirstein and Jaeger." They turn heads away from each other and to Detective Inspector Petra approaching them, SOMMER gun held down at her side by two hands, a little breathless from the chase. She tells herself it's possible but not practical to wear heels on the job again—Levi was right. Of course, if she lets him in on that, he'll give her another one of those disapproving looks she tries hard to not be on the receiving end of.  
  
"D.I. Ral, Ma'am!" Officer Kirstein straightens out and salutes. "The culprit's been apprehended! Hm? Err...where's the Inspector?"

"Tch. Damn elevator was slow as hell." the click of a tongue and gruff turn their heads to the late approaching man, Levi casually walking over, hands pocketed in his dark coat. He acknowledges the Officers with a curt nod, "Kirstein. Jaeger. Nice job getting here on time and catching the culprit."

It's fairly obvious yet no one brings up the way Officer Jaeger's face brightens up like Christmas.

"Inspector, I..." Petra's eyes are on and off her partner indecisively, feeling guilty for failing to catch the culprit after she bragged she could do so in heels. She shuts her eyes, overwhelmed. "I'm...! I'm very sorry, Sir, forgive me! In the end, he evaded me and escaped...!"

"Yeah." says Levi, and he remarks to himself that ironically, for once, Officer Jaeger being a justice-hungry, wild freak of nature came in handy. Still, he doesn't think his partner deserves to be subjected to a lackluster self-evaluation. "It's done with now, can't be helped. I did mention about those heels..." he casts another glance to them and Petra miserably tries to obstruct his vision with her hands. Levi's eyes roll away from her, "Unless it was you who had sex in the elevator and didn't clean up afterwards, I don't want your damn sorry."

"S-Sir?!" Petra squeaks, flushing.

"I'm saying you did good, Ral. So stop fishing for compliments already."  
  
Petra hadn't realized her pestering was so strong and supposes that she ought to take his word for it, then. During the three years they've been partners, she hasn't encountered a problem with doing just that. "...Y-Yes, Sir. Thank you."

The Officers haul Mr. Lang away in to the back of their car. A second CSL car drives in to the parking lot and pulls up beside them all, and the bespectacled Head of Forensics, Hanji Zoe, pokes her head out of the driver's side window. "Good evening, Officers and D.I. Ral!" she greets, then waves enthusiastically to the Inspector. "Yoohoo! Inspector Levi! Hey!"

"Good grief." Levi mutters under his breath.

"Erwin wants you and him to interrogate the culprit. Isn't Mr. Lang lucky? He's going to be isolated in a room with two hot cops. _I'd_ oppose the law for that sweet opportunity."

"It's not my ideal kind of date."

Hanji smiles wickedly. "Why, Inspector, you talk as if you have _experience_."

"Can it, four-eyes." Levi rolls his eyes all the way over to his partner, "Petra, handle the report with Jaeger."

"Of course, Sir." says Petra.

Levi nods in thanks and walks over to the passenger's side of the second car. He opens the door but pauses before he gets in, looks back at his partner. "Oi, don't even think of degrading yourself in the report, Ral. I chose you as my partner for a reason and I still stand by it."

On this, Petra knows that arguing with the Inspector will change nothing. His opinion of her is certain and solid but unlike a rock as it doesn't seem capable of being ruined by any particular circumstance. His mind is made up and it's quite tough to deter. "Yes, Sir, I understand. And thank you."

 

 

_*  *  *  *_

 

 

"He went ballistic! Runs and tackles the guy like he's playing Rugby or some shit!" Officer Jean Kirstein rants to two co-workers soon after returning to the Criminal Scouting Legion's branch in District Rose. Crossed arms and face etching frustration on to it, he's leaning against the edge of his desk at his cubicle and expressing his realism, his not being impressed by his partner's-brave, but more-reckless behavior tonight.

He didn't even consider that it would make him look as if he was slacking off!

"Yikes!" remarks Agent Connie Springer, his buzz-cut head reclining a little at the wild story. "Well, it's Eren. I don't know anyone else with nearly as much nerve as him. He's got major balls."

"Inspector Levi's kind of like that, too." adds his partner, Sasha Blouse, from her opposing cubicle. She hadn't looked a part of the discussion, but the two men aren't surprised; she and Connie do effortlessly slot gossip in-between their work like how she slots snacks between her lips. They say it lifts the atmosphere; their Intelligence Superior, Keith Shadis, says they're too fond of wasting the brain cells they can't scrape together even between them.

"Oh yeah, that guy's hardcore. I can see him coming out of a burning building without a scratch!" Connie looks beside him at Officer Jaeger who hasn't spoken a word since coming back with Officer Kirstein. "Don't you ever worry, though?"

Eren shrugs. "It's my job to take down the bad guys. Right? The System scans minds and determines how likely someone is to oppose the law. The least the rest of us can do is arrest the suspects." He's felt this strongly about it for as long as he can remember, and as far as the majority of the branch is concerned, he's the most determined to right humanity's wrongs next to the CSL's most capable Inspector.

The response is likely to echo with the Main Police if they were asked. Jean agrees, too, but he's not okay with having it used against him like this and by Eren Jaeger, of all people; it doesn't very well justify chasing then tackling a murderer who astonishingly evaded two Inspectors neither. Jean shakes his head and calls Eren insane.

"I second that." Officer Mikasa Ackerman joins the discussion, stalking over to Eren and placing her hands on his shoulders. They're tense, they always seem to be in her company. "What the hell were you thinking!?"

"Mikasa, I'm fine."

"This time, but that doesn't guarantee your safety in the future."

"Relax. The bad guy let me keep all my limbs."

"This isn't funny, Eren."

Eren pushes the gripping hands away, gives a look of exhaustion "I'm not as weak as you get off on believing! Besides, it's not like I was alone. Jean was there. Sort of." Officer Kirstein pushes off his desk with means to punch Eren good in the face. Connie just as quickly holds him back by his waist, and tells him 'shit, calm down, man!'

"That's not the point!" Mikasa snaps.

"Give me a break!"

"...Eren," a little far away, the petite, beautiful and blonde Agent, Historia, happens to be on her way passed and overhears them. She offers a shy smile and hugs her clipboard of important papers more to her chest, "...It was pretty dangerous but...for what it's worth, I also think you were really brave." It's been said on mutual empathy among the cubicle areas of Officers and Intelligent Agents (and others of similar age) that a praise from Historia Reiss is like the very first fall of snow: lovely, engraving.

"Thanks, Historia..." Eren answers in such a soft voice and watches her walk away like he's mesmerized.

Mikasa huffs and pinches the officer's ear; he screams but she doesn't care (Jean snorts, amused by the scene). Someone has to make him see and learn that he can only be reckless for so long. Mikasa promised his mother she'd do that. After all, she kindly welcomed her into the family when her own parents were killed in a house robbery. "Eren, I want you to think before you act. Being fine today doesn't mean you're safe tomorrow. Stupid people don't last long. You're not even a high-ranking Officer."

"Oh, thanks a lot!"

"You know I don't mean it like that."

"I'm not a kid anymore!"

"Eren," Detective Inspector Petra appears at the end of the cubicles on the other side. Everyone turns to watch her beckon Officer Jaeger over as discreetly as she thinks she's being. She coughs, gives them a flash of a smile, tucks hair behind her ear, "You've been assigned to handle the report for tonight with me. Come on, let's go."

Jean cries "What?!". Mikasa looks reluctant to let the requested Officer go, wanting to scold him some more. Also, truth be told, paperwork and writing reports is always the lackluster side of the prideful job that he will prefer escape, but Eren's beside Petra in a heart-beat and praising her highly as his life-saver.

 

 

_*  *  *  *_

 

 

"I hope it's alright that I called you by your first name. The Inspector does, so I figured you might not be bothered by it."

"No, I don't mind. You can call me like that."

Petra smiles. "Good." She goes back to typing up the report, fingers moving across the keyboard rhythmically, neat sentences appearing under the CSL's designed letterhead. The report is made up of her recollection with the Officer adding in tidbits here and there when necessary. "It might not be my place to say, and I wasn't eavesdropping intentionally, but I agree with your co-workers. You shouldn't go tackling dangerous criminals like you did tonight, Eren. It might've ended badly."

"It didn't." Eren slumps in his chair. "And if he'd tried anything I would've handled him, I'm a decent fighter."

"Not if your opponent's armed."

"You sound like Mikasa."

"I'm glad your sister has sense."

Eren isn't sure he'd say it's that. Mikasa is stronger—much stronger than he is, he'll admit, both physically and mentally. That must be why she can take on the "responsibility" of looking out for the person she's grown up with and close to, regardless if he's suffocating from it or not. Eren occupies himself with a ball of multicolored bands he found in a drawer of the desk they're at, throwing it up and catching it with the same hand. He does this a couple of times, next he finds he's glancing at the Detective Inspector long enough for it to become full on staring. He wonders about what she's typing next, bets it a lot of praise for her partner: the Criminal Scouting Legion's very best and most capable Inspector.

An _Enforcer_ , technically.

Eren throws up the ball again and catches it, it rocks back and forth in his palm trying to steady itself as he estimates how to word his oncoming question "I'm probably not allowed to ask...but there have been rumors from before, and I can't work it out for myself. How _does_ a latent criminal become join the CSL and become an Inspector?"

Petra stops typing, fingers hover over the keyboard.

He's right, he shouldn't be asking her—or anyone else—about this but it's a valid question, and many have been where he is now: curious, confused, eager to know the lengths one must go to earn the admirable title and the lines-blurry as they can be-they shouldn't overstep; and just as eager to know how one's judgement by that which partially governs the law today can be pardoned. The pair of them know it can't really, even if they aren't the Main Police that follows every command of The System.

Petra opens her mouth, closes it, bites her bottom lip in hesitation.

A person's background is personal and for them to share if they so choose. Inspector Levi isn't the chatty type, but if it's relevant then he won't keep information to himself. He can be a little cryptic but it isn't under the intention of leaving comrades in the dark. At least, she hopes not, not even if it's to shield them from something unfavorable of a person involved in the law.

Petra steadily settles her hands down and she offers the young Officer an empathetic smile, "I try not to analyze that too often." she admits two things here: that often her mind topics this, and that when it does her thoughts have gone a bit far. "I guess his position of Inspector has a lot to do with the fact that he's very capable, and that he trusts his own initiative." and that he was blackmailed into joining the CSL six years ago by the Chief Inspector, but she leaves out the anecdote.

"You really like the Inspector, don't you?"

"I-I, he's...Inspector Levi, that is...a lot of people admire him. He's very good at what he does."

Eren leans back and looks to the ceiling, "I guess the number our state of mind measures at isn't as big a deal as people say." he shrugs afterward, for he can't be certain of this. It isn't his place to question it, and for a long time he's believed his number to be justified.

"I've always believed in the way it judges." She's in the CSL now but Petra once had the opportunity to work in the MP back when her perception of The System was untouched and absolute. "...Then, one day, Inspector Levi came to me."

Eren means to settle his curiosity (and boredom) by bringing up an Inspector's past have all of a sudden brought on a curiosity about The System—a curiosity, which hadn't really existed prior. Were his sister here then she would tell him _'no, Eren, don't do this'_ and it would apparently all be for his sake but she wouldn't explain how, with the person he greatly respects involved, he can't not inquire.

And so, consequently, he comes to a realization.

"We may not use the Lethal Eliminator mode with our guns, but it doesn't matter to The System. Good or bad, most capable or not, it looks in to his thoughts and calculates a high number and every time it tells you to kill him."

Petra looks mortified, and for a lasting moment she's silent and so still.

"Four hundred..." Eren whistles, impressed, astounded, and he thinks there's just no way someone with a state of mind measuring so high can be excused and just handed a high rank. He can't understand it, but the MP's usually being on guard in Inspector Levi's presence makes sense, it's beyond just a difference in opinion and dislike toward each other.

Petra eventually comes to face the report, most of it is high praise for her partner. Her eyes are on it but she's focused on the reflections of their faces: her registering something huge she'd seemed to be overlooking all this time, and his frustration, confusion, and some guilt. Petra sees her face clearly and she knows that even if it's only the first time, she's still doing it, doubting what she believes in and trusts.

 

 

_*  *  *  *_

 

 

"What's with that face of yours, Ral?"

"...It's nothing, Sir." Petra fiddles with the red plaid cloth beneath the boxed lunch on her lap, made in a frantic dash around the kitchen after missing the chime of her alarm. Around three or five in the morning is when she'd finally succumb to the sleep she'd been rendered without because her mind stayed on her talk with the young Officer. It haunted her thoughts-it was her thoughts, every single one of them. She couldn't help being distant with her father during dinner, too (Mr. Ral teased his daughter more than usual and barely claimed a suitable reaction).

"I can't imagine what it would look like if it was actually something," Levi half-scoffs just before a sip of his black tea-his lunch, accompanied by a reasonably priced pack of gum from a vending machine.

Her lunch is homemade of mostly fruits and salads, its bright and pretty in its adorably sized container. She picks and eats one of her sliced strawberries. They haven't gone far for their lunch break, he's standing beside the brick wall outside the branch and she's sitting on it.

Petra supposes the Inspector's skepticism is fair, for she's not a decent liar when it concerns him. The wind brushes against her and she tucks hair behind an ear, she swallows the fruit but wishes she could've chewed it a bit longer to prolong the period before she actually confesses the matter she's been concerned of, "I've been thinking...about The System," she clears her throat, "...about why I'm so invested in it. Most of us are convinced it's something to believe in, something that's doing right for humanity."

" _Careful_ , Ral."

Petra nibbles on her low lip, a bit hesitant, "...I've always thought like that. All this time, I've thought it's okay to trust in something even if I'm not always relying on it...but it can twist our personal thoughts and make them into something to be mindful of."

Levi looks at her like she's falling, his voice is an anxious whisper. "Don't, Petra. No. Not you. This isn't like you at all."

"I can trust you, Inspector!" she's all of a sudden exclaiming (and nearly jumping off the wall) the way she honestly feels. She doesn't like that his perception of her seems unable to evolve after all this time they've spent together. "I can _trust you_..." she repeats lower, but still there. "You're here, right next to me! I can see you and I know who you are! You're...an Enforcer," it disturbs her to use the technical title-has for a long time, "...But I know I can trust your judgement and I don't believe I'm wrong in doing so, despite believing in The System as well!"

"Petra—"

"You shouldn't be labeled as a latent criminal! Your heart's in the right place and your intentions are good!"

"The System judges the likelihood of someone acting against the law, not a person's character or their heart. It doesn't matter if you're good; thinking bad is about the same as being that and it's enough for The System to convict you." Levi uses words that he can understand from a neutral perspective and experience, words that are straight from the book he wanted to burn as soon as he had to read it.

"But it should! It wasn't long ago when it was essential to consider all aspects of a suspect being interrogated. But with some these days, they just point their guns and do whatever they're told!"

"I once wanted to kill a man. And I almost did."

_ 'We may not use the Lethal Eliminator mode with our guns, but it doesn't matter to The System. Good or bad, most capable or not, it looks in to his thoughts and calculates a high number and every time it tells you to kill him.' _

For a legit reason. Petra has heard all the rumors about how her partner was recruited and she knows the truth involves the Chief Inspector indirectly having a hand in her partner's friends' deaths. She also thinks that if she were close to Farlan Church and Isabel Magnolia like the Inspector had been then her intentions wouldn't have been far from his. "...You had your reasons."

Levi stares at her like she's just cursed her parents-something he knows she wouldn't dream of doing; he can't for the life of him decipher why she's acting so out of character. That, and the fact she is at all, infuriates him. "Three years ago you didn't think this way."

"Three years ago I didn't know you, Inspector." Petra isn't blaming him, even though perhaps she ought to. But, honestly...she can't express enough gratitude for the way it's like her eyes are being opened. In the beginning, she trusted him because he's good. Now, it's like she can trust him because she gets it.

There's silence between them for a while. Petra's partner's afraid she's offended him now and isn't quite sure what her next words should be. Levi looks across the road and ahead, seemingly calculating some things. Out of the blue, next, he inquires, "Do you remember the time we went undercover as a couple?"

Petra wills herself not blush. "Yes..."

"We went old-school, put on a charade. We had the SOMMER-guns in our pockets but we didn't use them. The System was there with us but we relied on each other. It was just you and me, two Inspectors."

It's not just him reminiscing. She knows him well enough to know he's telling her something. Back then, she trusted him as much as she was prepared to trust in The System that was only a grab away. Him, the Enforcer made Inspector through astounding means (and because the Chief Inspector is one persuasive bastard). Him, the profanity fluent, clever and unconventional, shorter than expected, tea drinking man.

It's all she needs to know if she feels like she can't handle things herself.

A partner is beyond having someone infiltrate a place or interrogate with you; they watch your back, they keep you on the path you should be walking on or catch you if you fall from it. It's an Enforcer's job to prevent an Inspector from ever falling, an Inspector's job to catch them should they eventually.

Inspector Levi exercises both roles very well.

Petra pushes another strawberry slice passed her lips. Chewing it, she looks at Levi awhile, then she looks across the road too. There are cafes and book stores and small boutiques and passersby and birds flocking-Doves to be exact; White. Hopeful. Their wings are spread wide in the air as they go to someplace bright.

That's more or less what being partners with Levi makes her feel.

 

 

_*  *  *  *_

 

 

They've gone undercover for cases few times before, but this one was different-the oddest, but not in an unpleasant way. Other times they were themselves under aliases, in clothing differing to their own tastes. Always they were each other's partner, best friend on the case, eyes and ears and second perspective...but this once-about two years ago-they were together, had to be closer and comfortable (and funnily enough, it might've been the only time when an Inspector and someone like Levi were allowed to be that close).

"My wife and I are looking for something to brighten up our new place," Levi was casual, professionally so, with ease, and glued to his partner. Her every step, each blink, each breath, he matched, he made it so they were in sync, like one entity-like they'd been together much longer than the hours spent on briefing. "Isn't that right, Honey?"

Petra's answer was stalled for a moment over the surprise of the affectionate name, for she hadn't pictured the Inspector willing to use it without vomiting. Anything for the good of the mission, she guessed. "Y-Yes," she squeaked, cleared her throat next and retried, "Yes, we are, most definitely..."

Levi's arm slipped around her waist and she bit her lip to keep back a surprised gasp. The grip was strong, but not possessive-gentle, secure. Petra didn't think her partner to be stupid, but his unspoken actions had her curiosity going and she wondered how he knew how to hold her for this charade. She didn't let herself think about him doing this before with anyone else.

_'Probably not'._

She looked at him again, fell under his charm that is dark, and can be moody, but was ultimately tough.

 _'Possibly'_. She wished she didn't feel so dreadful thinking about it. _'In fact, the likelihood of him doing this before with someone may be higher than his likelihood to commit a crime.'_

A thumb slowly and softly etching circles on her hip withdrew her from her in-depth guessing and she focused again on their parading around like lovers to a catch a suspected accomplice in a murder. The suspect-the owner of the very large furniture store they were in the large entrance of-didn't seem to suspect anything is amiss, luckily. He probably saw them for their pretense: a loving couple still in the newlywed stages, glittered in the vibe of an eternal kind of love.

"Right," the suspect grinned and threw a thumb someplace behind. "I have a great selection in the back room. Let me grab my keys and I'll show you two lovebirds," he left to go off to the left side.

"Petra."

"Sir?" Petra answered with familiarity, it was so automatic and too late to take back-slip in an affectionate name instead. She tucked hair behind an ear and hoped the store owner's keys were a good distance from them.

"Is it too much?"

"...Is what—" she hadn't an idea until she noticed, finally, that the thumb on her hip wasn't a soothing motion anymore, but still, the feeling remnant. "N-No," she squeaked again. Damn it; authenticity out the window. But she meant it. "We were briefed on this and how convincing we seem is essential." she was whispering, in case the store owner was on his way back. "It's our job to do what we can to uphold justice and catch those who threaten to oppose the law. I trust you."

"Glad the screws in your head are a good fit then." the compliments from him passed "good" and even "thanks" had always been unorthodox.

 _'Like the man himself'_ , Petra supposed, and then began her fantasy of husband Levi praising her cooking or cleaning of dishes, and herself giving him a massage after a long, hardworking day. Scolding herself, she quit. "Sir, wouldn't it be easier to bring him in for questioning now? He's a suspect, convicted or not."

Levi's eyes went to the store owner on his way back with the keys. Quickly he laid out an explanation, void of the exhaustion or irritation his partner feared he'd feel. "He's in a business where he can handle different sorts of transporting. So, if we act like we're interested in purchasing one of his products, we'll likely be able to discuss delivery details with him, and that'll give us a chance to confirm what we've been told, see if he's an accomplice in the recent murders and has been moving the dead bodies to whereabouts outside District Rose."

And from there, that could lead them to the missing female of thirty-something, dating, and last seen at this store alone, apparently finalizing delivery details. If Petra was to end up reenacting that, she wouldn't be entirely alone.

The store owner returned, keys in hand and a grin on his face again, "Alright, this way. Oh, and by the way, if you see something you fancy but can't take it in the same day, I'm fine with going over any details concerning payment and delivery. It only has to be one of you," he laughed off the suspicious emphasis, "Whatever the happy couple needs, yeah?"

Petra placed her hands on Levi's shoulders, leaned in close to him and smiled brightly, "Yes, we'd absolutely love that. Wouldn't we, _Darling_?"


End file.
